“She taught Sam,” I explained, as Mrs. Hanson glanced down, staring intently at the top of the hat. “She was Sam’s favorite teacher of all time. Right, Mrs. Hanson?”

Mrs. Hanson nodded.

“I remember that Sam picked out that huge orange candle for you, for your birthday. He bought it with his own money, at the farmers market. He saved up.”

“Yes, I remember. I still have it,” said Mrs. Hanson gently, but she still wasn’t making eye contact with me.

Then there was a pause, until at last Mrs. Hanson cleared her throat. “Okay, well, I think maybe Olive here should get over to her little buddies to splash. But it was nice seeing you, Leah. Please, dear, tell your mom hello from me. It’s been too long.” She turned to leave.

That probably would have been a good way to end things, but right then something funny happened. Inside me. A little twisting snake of a feeling. I don’t know where it came from, but I was just so tired of this same dumb interaction, which I seemed to have with everyone. Everyone wanted me to tell my parents hello. Everyone had trouble making eye contact and everyone said those same words, It’s been too long. Now, for some reason, I couldn’t let Mrs. Hanson just walk away. Not this time.

“You know,” I shouted after her, “you could call, if you want.”

“What’s that?” she said, looking back over her shoulder. “What do you mean, Leah?”

“I mean, you could call my mom. You could check in.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose,” she said, nodding sadly. “I suppose I should. It’s just . . . you know, been a busy year.”

“Really?” I said. “It’s mostly been quiet at our house. Super quiet.”

Mrs. Hanson stared at me for a second, as the baby made a gurgling noise and then said “Ba!” in her arms.

“I mean, it’s been quiet ever since the funeral. Nobody ever calls or stops by.”

“Oh, Leah,” said Mrs. Hanson, even though the baby was squirming now. “I’m so sorry, dear.” She looked incredibly sad, but also incredibly uncomfortable.

Then things were quiet again, and Jasper coughed, which somehow made it feel okay when Mrs. Hanson turned to go. “Well, I just wanted to . . . you know, check in, Leah. And maybe . . . I’ll see you soon.”

I watched her walk away, out the main gate and off to the parking lot, with her baby staring back at us all big-eyed and drooly. Even though they had only just arrived. I couldn’t stop staring back.

After that, Jasper and I got into the water and paddled around. Jasper swam a quick lap across the pool and back, then ducked down to do some somersaults beside me, but when she burst up out of the water, she said, “Hey, Leah!”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Why did you do that to that teacher?”